


This House Is On Fire, WOO!

by Zzzara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cheating, Consent, Destruction, Drarry, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Easy - Freeform, Easy Troye Sivan, Emotional Hurt, Excessive Drinking, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fire, Fucked Up, Guilt, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Infidelity, M/M, One Night Stands, Painful Sex, Photographs, Reconciliation, Rescue, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Stranger Sex, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zzzara/pseuds/Zzzara
Summary: This house is on fire, WOO!What the hell did we do?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 57
Collections: H/D Hurt!Fest 2020





	This House Is On Fire, WOO!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dramafanforever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramafanforever/gifts).



> My friend, I'm sure, as soon as you see the title, you'll know who this is from. Accept this little gift as a token of my affection.
> 
> This fic is inspired by Troye Sivan's song ["Easy"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCHqIhiFmEY)  
> \- a perfect mood.
> 
> !!! WARNING: this fic deals with infidelity and unconscious attempts of self-harm.
> 
>   
> My gratitude to my lovely betas [Mimi59327](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimi59327/pseuds/Mimi59327)  
> and [Gina](https://hpdmgk.tumblr.com)  
> for your help and advice, and also for boosting up my confidence about this story, thank you!<3  
> Many thanks to the mods of this fest for bringing this wonderful idea to life! 
> 
> *Don’t repost/copy this work to any other websites without my permission.
> 
> *Disclaimer: all characters belong to J.K. Rowling and other rightful owners.
> 
> *The author of this work does not support J.K. Rowling's transphobic opinions.

**This House Is On Fire, WOO!**

_You ran away to find something to say_

_I went astray to make it okay_

_And he made it easy, darling..._

He made it easy. 

I used to think that touching anyone but you would be impossible. Fool. I laugh into his shoulder.

"What?" 

"Nothing." I take a sip, spilling Firewhisky down my chin.

His eyes are dark, his breath urgent, his kisses burning alcohol on my lips. He leans down to lick it off my throat. The empty glass rolls off the sofa, its clatter muffled against the rug.

"Easy," he murmurs, "you're drunk." But his fingers are already halfway down the front of my shirt.

"Fuck me."

He takes my glasses off, placing them carefully on the coffee table. His face blurs. Good. I help him tug my trousers down and roll over. I don't want to see his face. There's a _click-click_ of the belt buckle, he fumbles with his clothes as the blurred pattern of the sofa fabric is swimming before my eyes. His naked chest on my back weighs me down, a touch of teeth at my nape, I shiver. Good. Just to not see his face. 

His palms are sliding over my body, down, down, his touch making me shudder and close my eyes. 

"May I?" He's still careful, he's still asking. 

I feel like shit. "Get on with it."

His hands… his fingers are having their way with me. Giving in and trying not to, I swallow a traitorous moan. And if I find his touch pleasant - then so what?

"May I?" 

_Leave me_

I'm nodding into the cushion. I want his touch. I hate it.

I hate myself.

I'm too far gone to stop him.

He brings pain, I don't care, I fail to stifle a cry.

"Am I hurting you?" His trembling body traps me between the strain of his arms. He's drunk, too. Even drunk, he's still gentle. I don't want it. I want pain.

"Yeah…" I press my forehead into the sofa. "Fuck me."

"You alright?" His palm is caressing my thigh.

"I'm good." I'm hurting, I want to hurt, to take it all. "Fuck me."

He does. Merciless, slow, he's sheathing all the way in until my lip is blood. His breath hot in my ear, he leans in for a kiss. I turn my head and bite.

"Ah! Easy…" He laughs into my lips.

It doesn't matter whose blood it is. I lick it off.

Sliding his arm under my chest, he moves, sending sparks of pain through my body.

"I'm hurting you?" He whispers as I growl and dig my fingers into his arm.

"No," I lie. It's easy.

"Good."

I take it all.

Mistaking my pain for pleasure, he crushes me into the sofa and comes, smearing sweat on my back, reaching under my belly...

"No," I stop his hand. "I'm good."

He rolls over. "You're hard, let me—" I think he frowns—without glasses I cannot tell—and plants a kiss on my neck, and touches me again.

I'd rather have him hit me. Anything but…

"No, it's fine—" I pull away. "I need a drink."

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." I sit up, reaching for the bottle. There's no glass, I take a swig, aching inside and out. Good.

...

When he comes back from the loo, I'm pretending to be asleep. With a sigh, he runs his hand through my hair.

_Leave me_

Through my eyelashes, I watch him picking his clothes up, strong lines of his body bending in a graceful arc. Even drunk, half asleep, without glasses, I see he is beautiful.

_What the hell did we do?_

I don't move. I want him gone.I can't even look at—

The door clicks shut.

I stare into the tongues of fire blurring in the grate.

_What's left of the dance_

_That's all on my hands_

_The rock in my throat_

_A hair on my coat_

_The stranger at home, my darling_

_Like some kind of freak, my darling..._

My gaze stops at the photographs on the mantel. I prop myself on my elbow. These are unmoving pictures from your Muggle camera. A glimpse of a movement makes me flinch. _No, I'm drunk,_ I think, _That's all._

The room tilts before me as I get to unsteady feet. As I approach, your face smiles at me from the mantelpiece, frozen in a moment from several years ago. The _photo-me_ is leaning his head against your temple in the easiness I now know for happiness. Happiness lost in your _'I don't know, I need to think… I think we both need some space to figure things out'_ , betrayed by his kisses, his eyes colour of Firewhisky. Easy. Silly. I took it for granted.

There's more. More of them. More of you, more of me. More happiness all over the place in the living room of our home. The home I have just let a stranger in.

A swipe of my hand sends them all flying; all of them, frames shattering against the floor. 

Gripping the mantelpiece, I steady my drunken tilt and look down - at our faces peering up at me from under the shattered glass. Shards bite into the soles of my feet, sting my toes, smearing my knees scarlet as I lower myself to the floor. That's when I remember I'm naked. The stranger undressed me, took my clothes away. The stranger owned my body. I let him. I made him. _Am I hurting you?_

I was, I suppose.

_I know how it seems, between you and me_

_It hasn’t been easy, darling_

You are smiling at me from the floor, unwavering, golden, happy. Ignorant.

I need to put something on.

With a flick of my hand, my shirt flies across the room and the glasses follow. I put them on, catching my own eyes in the picture, my smile unabashed, _unaware,_ stupid. I hate it.

_You reap what you saw, my darling_

Shaking the glass pieces off, I pick it up.

 _'I need a break,'_ you said, _'I need to think.'_

We both did.

Thinking was not what I've been doing.

_'I need a drink… Fuck me.’_

_What the hell did we do?_ You're asking from the photograph, punishing me with your smile.

I rip the picture in two and stare into the fire between my hands, where the photo-you and the photo-me are nestled so far from each other. 

_I can't even look at you_

I throw _myself_ into flames and look, transfixed, at my face disappearing in the lashes of fire.

More.

The next photograph, and the next, and the next, growing the pile of _you_ on the floor until nothing of _me_ is left. Not a single one. Good.

Carefully, I pick every _you_ up, gathering them all into a neat stack and get to my feet. 

_I can't even look at you_

Putting them all face-down onto the coffee-table, I take the bottle, toasting to the mirror above the fireplace. Cheering back at me, my reflection brings the bottle to his lips with a smile. Choking on the long swig, I cough and splutter, droplets of Firewhisky running down my bare chest. My reflection shakes his head. I hate him.

My hand aims of its own accord, hurling the bottle right into his mocking face. There's a _crash!_ , broken pieces of glass in fiery liquid rain down off the mantel into the fireplace. The raging flames burst, spitting fire, snaking their bright paths over the rug. When I look up, my reflection is smiling, bending, distorting the liquid surface within its frame. Magic mirrors don’t break. They only laugh and twist and mock you.

There's something… I squint and step forward - my reflection moves towards me. Tongues of fire are sprouting from my bare chest, fraying the white edges of my open shirt into smouldering brown.

Feeling nothing, I glance down, see nothing and look up into the mirror again, bringing my hand to my flaming chest. Fire springs from my fingertips, sending sparks into my glasses. I flinch and stagger backwards, my feet setting the rug aflame. 

No, it’s Firewhisky. I need a drink.

In a search for a bottle, I wheel on the spot and see the stack of your photographs on the flaming table. Untouched.

It's so damn hot, my glasses are scorching, my vision blurs, I take them off. I need to hide you. I don't want to see your face. Staggering forward, I grab the photos. Fire is licking at my sleeves, I feel nothing.

_I can’t even look at you_

There's nowhere to hide from your gaze.

Pressing the photographs to my burning chest, I wrap my shirt around me and hold tight. Maybe it will burn your smile away. 

My face is wet, my face is on fire, I close my eyes, letting my guilt burn bright... A scream boiling up my throat, I fall.

Falling-falling-falling— Sudden coolness shocks me back to my senses, I can't breathe. Ice filling my lungs like water, I look up. A roaring fire is swimming above… I let myself drown.… 

Firm hands grip my arms, wrap around my shoulders, firm hands are closing around my chest, pulling me up and up to the surface, letting me breathe again. Breathe fire and pain and memories.

I scream.

…

Whiteness is flooding my eyes with tears, the empty air stinks of medicine. I blink through the pain at the white ceiling, white walls, white light through the high hospital windows. At your blurred face above the whiteness of your shirt. 

“Harry, please...” Your voice is wrong, are you crying? 

Without glasses, I cannot tell. 

"Don't leave me."

I reach out to touch your face, but my hand falls useless. I’m so tired, I can barely move.

"Don't leave me," your voice repeats. That's when I know the words belong to you. 

My words. I am the one to own them.

I open my mouth. "Draco."

It's only a rasp, barely a whisper. But you flinch, and grab my hand and squeeze, bringing it up to your lips. Your face is wet. Why are you crying? You've done nothing wrong.

"Draco, I—"

"The house was on fire. I—" You wipe your eyes. "—barely managed to cast the spells so that you wouldn’t get burnt. If I came later—” 

_Tell me we'll make it through._ "Don't leave."

"I'm not." You crush my fingers.

Guilt is screaming at me, I want to spill it, to unload it off my chest, to make you carry away my burden… to make you hate me so that I can forgive myself.

“What the hell did you do?" You press my hand to your lips. 

_Please, don't believe me_

_Don't leave me_

I blink, my smiling face distorted amidst the fire is etched under my eyelids. I keep my mouth shut and cover your hand with mine, sparing me, sparing you...

Maybe we'll make it through.

_~ the end ~_

_**I am on Tumblr:[@big-draco-energy](https://big-draco-energy.tumblr.com)** _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> You are welcome to share your thoughts in the comments below.
> 
> \--
> 
> Remember to leave some love for the creator if you can! Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://hd-hurtfest.tumblr.com/) on the H/D Hurt!Fest tumblr page!


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